The Making of the New Testament

We are fortunate in having even one example of the "consecutive narratives" (diegeses) referred to in Luke i. 1. Our Mark is a gospel written purely and simply from this point of view, aiming only to show how the earthly career of Jesus gave evidence that this was the Son of God, predestined to exaltation to the right hand of power, with little attempt, if any, to bring in the precepts of the New Law. We should realize, however, that this is already a beginning in the process soon to become controlling, a process of carrying back into the earthly life of Jesus in Galilee of first this trait, then that, then all the attributes of the glorified Lord.

Ancient and reliable tradition informs us that this first endeavour to tell the story of "Jesus Christ the Son of God" was composed at Rome by John Mark, a former companion of both Peter and Paul, from data drawn from the anecdotes casually employed by Peter in his preaching. There is much to confirm this in the structure, the style, and the doctrinal object and standpoint of the Gospel.

To begin with, the date of composition cannot be far from 75. Mark is not only presupposed by both Matthew and Luke, but in their time had already acquired an extraordinary predominance. To judge by what remains to us of similar products, Mark in its own field might almost be said to reign supreme and reign alone. Such almost exclusive supremacy could not have been attained, even by a writing commonly understood to represent the preaching of Peter, short of a decade or more of years. On the other hand we have the reluctant testimony of antiquity, anxious to claim as much as possible of apostolic authority for the record, but unwilling to commit Peter to apparent contradictions of Matthew, that it was written after Peter's death (64-5).21 Internal evidence would in fact bring down the date of the work in its present form a full decade thereafter. It is true that there are many structural evidences of more than one form of the narrative, and that the apocalyptic chapter (ch. xiii.), which furnishes most of the evidence of date, may well belong among the later supplements. But in the judgment of most critics this 'eschatological discourse' (almost the only connected discourse of the Gospel) is clearly framed in real retrospect upon the overthrow of Jerusalem and the temple, and the attendant tribulation on "those that are in Judæa." The writer applies a general saying of Jesus known to us from other sources about destroying and rebuilding the temple specifically to the demolition effected by Titus (70). He warns his readers in the same connection that "the end" is not to follow immediately upon the great Judæan war, but only when the powers of evil in the heavenly places, powers inhabiting sun, moon and stars, are shaken (xiii. 21-27). The Pauline doctrine of 2nd Thess. ii. 1-12 is adopted, but with careful avoidance of the prediction that the "man of sin" is to appear "in the temple of God." Paul's "man of sin" is now identified with Daniel's "abomination that maketh desolate" (Dan. xii. 11), which therefore is spoken of as "he" (masculine). "His" appearance will prelude the great Judæan tribulation; but his standing place is ill-defined. It is only "where he ought not." Matthew (following his usual practice) returns more nearly to the language of Daniel. With him the "Abomination" is again an object standing "in a holy place." But Matthew is already applying the prophecy to another tribulation still to come. He does not see that Mark refers to the sack of Jerusalem on which he himself looks back in his addition to the parable of the Supper (Matt. xxii. 6 f.; cf. Luke xiv. 15-24), but takes Mark xiii. 14-23 as Jesus' prediction of a great final tribulation still to come.

Mark's crudities of language and style, his frequent latinisms, his explanation to his readers (almost contemptuously exaggerated) of Jewish purifications and distinctions of meats (vii. 3 f.), presupposition of the Roman form of divorce (x. 12), explanation in Roman money of the value of the (Greek and Oriental) "mite" (lepton), are well-known confirmations of the tradition of the writing's place of origin. But these are superficial characteristics. More important for us to note is the fundamental conception of what constitutes "the gospel," and the writer's attitude on questions of the relation of Jew and Gentile and the authority of the apostles and kindred of the Lord.

The most striking characteristic of Mark is that it aims to present the gospel about Jesus, and is relatively indifferent to the gospel of Jesus. Had the writer conceived his task after the manner of a Matthew there is little doubt that he could have compiled catechetic discourses of Jesus like the Sermon on the Mount or the discourse on prayer of Luke xi. 1-13. The fact that he disregards such records of Jesus' ethical and religious instruction does not mean that he (tacitly) refers his readers to the Matthæan Precepts, or similar compilations, to supplement his own deficiencies. It means a different, more Pauline, conception of what "the gospel" is. Mark conceives its primary element to be attachment to the person of Jesus, and has already gone far toward obliterating the primitive distinction between a Jesus whose earthly career had been "in great humility," and the glorified Son of God. The earthly Jesus is still, it is true, only a man endowed with the Spirit of Adoption. But he is so completely "in" the Spirit, and so fully endowed with it, as almost to assume the Greek figure of a demi-god treading the earth incognito. No wonder this Gospel became the favourite of the Adoptionists and Doketists.

Mark does not leave his reader in the dark as to what a man must do to inherit eternal life. The requirement does not appear until after Jesus has taken up with the twelve the road to Calvary, because it is distinctly not a keeping of commandments, new or old. It is an adoption of "the mind that was in Christ, who humbled himself and became obedient unto death." In Matthew's 'improved' version of Jesus' answer to the rich applicant for eternal life, the suppliant is told he may obtain it by obeying the commandments, with supererogatory merit ("if thou wouldest be perfect"), if he follows Jesus' example of self-abnegating service. In the form and context from which Matthew borrows (Mark x. 13-45) there is no trace of this legalism, and the whole idea of supererogatory merit, or higher reward, is strenuously, almost indignantly, repudiated. No man can receive the kingdom at all who does not receive it "as a little child." Every man must be prepared to make every sacrifice, even if he has kept all the commandments from his youth up. Peter and the disciples who have "left all and followed" are in respect to reward on the same level as others. Peter's plea for the twelve is answered, "There is no man that hath left" earthly possessions for Christ's sake that is not amply compensated even here. He must expect persecution now, but will receive eternal life hereafter. Only "many that are first shall be last, and last first." Even the martyr-apostles James and John will have no superior rights in the Kingdom.

Such passages as the above not only reveal why Mark's gospel shows comparative disregard of the Precepts, but also displays an attitude toward the growing claims of apostolic authority and neo-legalism which in contrast with Matthew and Luke is altogether refreshing. The kindred of the Lord appear but twice (iii. 20 f., 31-35 and vi. 1-6), both times in a wholly unfavourable light. John appears but once, and that to receive a rebuke for intolerance. James and John appear only to be rebuked for selfish ambition. Peter seldom otherwise than for rebuke. All the disciples show constantly the blindness and "hardness of heart" which is explicitly said to characterize their nation (vi. 52; vii. 18; viii. 12, 14-21). Their self-seeking and unfaithfulness is the foil to Jesus' self-denial and faithfulness (viii. 33; ix. 6, 18 f., 29; x. 24, 28, 32, 37, 41; xiv. 27-31, 37-41, 50, 66-72). That which in Matthew (xvi. 16-19) has become a special divine revelation to Peter of the messiahship, marking the foundation of the church, is in the earlier Markan form (Mark viii. 27-33) not a revelation of the messiahship at all. Peter's answer, "Thou are the Christ," is common knowledge. The twelve are not supposed to be more ignorant than the demons! There is, however, a caustic rebuke of Peter for his carnal, Jewish idea of the implications of Christhood. A revelation of its significance almost Doketic in character is indeed granted just after to "Peter, James and John"; but they remain without appreciation or understanding of the 'vision,' though it exhibits Jesus in his heavenly glory in company with the translated heroes of the Old Testament. The revelation still remains, therefore, a sealed book until "after the resurrection."

This exaggeration of the disciples' obtuseness is partly due, no doubt, to apologetic motives. The evangelist has to meet the objection, If Jesus was really the extraordinary, superhuman being represented, and was openly proclaimed such by the evil spirits, why was nothing heard of his claims until after the crucifixion and alleged resurrection? His carrying back into the Galilean ministry of the glorified Being of Paul's redemption doctrine compels him to represent the twelve as sharing the dullness of the people who "having eyes see not, and having ears hear not." But with all allowance for this, the Roman Gospel shows small consideration for the apostles and kindred of the Lord.

It shows quite as little for Jewish prerogative and Jewish law. Jesus speaks in parables because to those "without" his preaching is to be intentionally a 'veiled' gospel (iv. 1-34). The Inheritance will be taken away from them and given to others (xii. 1-12). Priests and people together were guilty of the rejection and murder of Jesus (xv. 11-15, 29-32). Forgiveness of sins is offered by Jesus on his own authority in defiance of the scribes. Their exclusion of the publicans and sinners he disregards, proclaims abolition of their fasts, and holds their sabbath-keeping up to scorn (ii. 1 – iii. 6). On the question of distinctions of meats his position is the most radical possible. The Jewish ceremonial is a "vain worship," mere "commandments of men." Defilement cannot be contracted by what "goes into a man." Jesus' saying about inward purity was not aimed at the mere 'hedge of the Law' (Matt. xv. 13), nor the mere matter of ablutions (Matt. xv. 20), but was intended to "make all meats clean" (vii. 1-23). Moses' law in some of its enactments does not represent the real divine will, but a human accommodation to human weakness (x. 2-9). Obedience to its highest code does not ensure eternal life (x. 19-21). The single law of love is "much more than all whole burnt offering and sacrifices" (xii. 28-34). When all the references to Judaism, its Law, its institutions, and its prerogative, are of this character, when Jesus always appears in radical opposition to the Law and its exponents (xii. 38-40; xiii. 1 f.), never as their supporter in any degree, the evangelist comes near to making it too hard for us to believe that he really was of Jewish birth.

On the other hand we cannot doubt the statement that he derives his anecdotes, however indirectly, from the preaching of Peter. The prologue (i. 1-13), indeed, makes no pretence of reporting the testimony of any witness, but acquaints the reader with the true nature of Jesus as "the Christ, the Son of God" by means of a mystical account of his baptism and endowment with the Spirit of Adoption, probably resting upon that document of Q, which we have distinguished from the Precepts. But the ensuing story of the ministry opens at the home of Peter in Capernaum, and continues more or less connected therewith in spite of interjected groups of anecdotes whose connection is not chronological but topical, such as ii. 1 – iii. 6; iii. 22-30; iv. 1-34. It reaches its climax where Jesus at Cæsarea Philippi takes Peter into his confidence. Here again the mystical Revelation or Transfiguration vision (ix. 2-10) interrupts the connection, and shows its foreign derivation by the transcendental sense in which it interprets the person of Jesus. Certain features suggest its having been taken from the same source as the prologue (i. 1-13).

The story issues in the tragedy at Jerusalem, where, as before, Peter's figure, however unfavourable the contrast in which it is set to that of Jesus, is still the salient one. The outline in general is identical with that so briefly sketched in Acts x. 38-42 —except that the absolutely essential point, the one thing which no gospel narrative can possibly have lacked, the resurrection manifestation to the disciples, and the commission to preach the gospel, is absolutely lacking!

That Mark's gospel once contained such a conclusion is almost a certainty. Imagine a gospel narrative without a report of the manifestation of the risen Lord to his disciples! Imagine a church – and that the church at Rome– giving out as the first, the authentic, original, and (in intention) the only account of the origin of the Christian faith (Mark i. 1), a narrative which ended with the apostles scattered in cowardly desertion, and Peter the most conspicuous, most remorseful renegade of them all! He who writes in Peter's name from Rome but shortly after, affectionately naming Mark "my son," must have had indeed a forgiving spirit. But traces of the real sequel have not all disappeared. Many outside allusions still remain to the turning again of Peter and stablishing of his brethren in the resurrection faith. The earliest is Paul's (1st Cor. xv. 5). The present Mark itself implies that it once had such an ending; for Jesus promises to rally his flock in Galilee after he is raised up (xiv. 28), and the women at the sepulchre are bidden to remind the disciples of the promise, though they fail to deliver their message. Indeed the whole Gospel looks forward to it. To this end "the mystery of the kingdom" is given to the chosen twelve (iii. 13 f., 31-35; iv. 10-12); for this they are forewarned (though vainly) of the catastrophe (viii. 34 – ix. 1, 30-32; x. 32-34; xiv. 27-31). In fact the promise of a baptism of the Spirit (i. 8) probably implies that the original sequel related not only the appearance to Peter and (later) to the rest with the charge to preach, but also their endowment with the gifts, perhaps as in John xx. 19-23. What we now have is only a substitute for this original sequel, a substitute so ill-fitting as to have provoked repeated attempts at improvement.

From xvi. 8 onwards, as is well known, the oldest textual authorities have simply a blank. Later authorities give a shorter or longer substitute for the missing Manifestation and Charge to the twelve. The shorter follows Matthew, the longer follows Luke, with traces of acquaintance with John. Fanciful theories to explain these textual phenomena, such as accidental mutilation of the only copy, are improbable, and do not explain. If conjecture be permissible it is more likely that the original work was in two parts, after the manner of Luke-Acts, the 'former treatise' ending with the centurion's testimony, "Truly this man was a Son of God" (xv. 39). The second part continued the narrative in the form of a Preaching of Peter, perhaps ending with his coming to Rome; for the ancient literature of the church had several narratives of this type. Its disappearance will have been due to the superseding (perhaps the embodiment) of it by the work of Luke. When the primitive Markan 'former treatise' was adapted for separate use as a gospel it was quite natural that it should be supplemented (we can hardly say "completed") by the addition of the story of the Empty Sepulchre (xv. 40 – xvi. 8), though this narrative is quite unknown to the primitive resurrection preaching (cf. 1st Cor. xv. 3-11), and one in which every character save Pilate is a complete stranger to the body of the work. The subsequent further additions of the so-called "longer" and "shorter" endings belong to the history of transcription after a. d. 140.

It will be apparent from the above that the Gospel of Mark is no exception to the rule that church-writings of this type inevitably undergo recasting and supplementation until the advancing process of canonization at last fixes their text with unalterable rigidity. Whether we recognize "sources," or earlier "forms," or only earlier "editions" of Mark, it is certain that appendices could still be attached long after the appearance of Luke, and probable that in the early period of its purely local currency at Rome the fund of Petrine anecdote had received more than one adaptation of form before it was carried to Syria and embodied substantially as we now have it in the composite gospels of Matthew and Luke. The omission by Luke of Mark vi. 45 – viii. 26 is intentional,22 and cannot be used to prove the existence of a shorter form; and the same is probably true of the omission of Mark ix. 38-40 by Matthew. Mark xii. 41-44, however, is probably an addition later than Matthew's time. Neither Matthew nor Luke had a text extending beyond xvi. 8. But signs of acquaintance with the original sequel appear in the appendix to John (John xxi.) and in the late and composite Gospel of Peter (c. 140). According to the latter the twelve remained in Jerusalem scattered and in hiding for the remaining six days of the feast. At its close they departed, mourning and grieving, each man to his own home. Peter and a few others, including "Levi the son of Alpheus," resumed their fishing "on the sea." … The fragment breaks off at this point. The story may be conjecturally completed from 1st Cor. xv. 5-8, with comparison of John xxi. 1-13; Luke v. 4-8; xxii. 31 f.; xxiv. 34, 36-43.

As we look back upon the undertaking of this humble author, named only by tradition, one among the catechists of the great church of Paul and Peter, writing but a few years after their death, but a few years before 1st Peter and Hebrews, one is struck by the grandeur of his aim. It is true he was not wholly without predecessors in the field. The work which afforded him at least the substance of his prologue, and in all probability other considerable sections of his book, had already aimed in a more mystical way to connect the Pauline doctrine of Christ as the Wisdom of God with the mighty works and teachings of Jesus. Duplication of a considerable part of Mark's story (vii. 31 – viii. 26 repeats with some variation vi. 30 – vii. 30) shows that his work was one of combination as well as creation. But outline, proportion and onward march of the story show not only skill and care, but large-minded and consistent adherence to the fundamental plan to tell the origin of the Christian faith (Mark i. 1).

Confirmation of the belief and practice of the church – it is for this that Mark reports all he can learn of the years of obscurity in Galilee followed by the tragedy in Jerusalem. Not only belief in Jesus as the Son of God will be justified by the story, but the founding, institutions, and ritual of the existing church. He manifestly adapts it to show not only the superhuman powers and attributes of the chosen Son of God, but the germ and type of all the church's institutions. Its baptism of repentance and accompanying gift of the Spirit of Adoption only repeats the experience of Jesus at the baptism of John. Endowment with the word of wisdom and the word of power is but the counterpart of Jesus' divine equipment with "the power of the Spirit" when he taught and healed in Galilee. The Sending of the Twelve sets the standard for the church's evangelists and missionaries, just as the Breaking of the Bread in Galilee gives the model for its fraternal banquet. So for the Judæan ministry as well. The path of martyrdom is that which all must follow, its Passover Supper of the Lord and Vigil in Gethsemane are models for the church's annual observance, its Passover of the Lord, its Vigil, its Resurrection feast. The grouping of the anecdotes is not all of Mark's doing, for we can still see in many cases how they have grown up around the church observances, to explain and justify the rites, rather than to form part of an outlined career. But taking the work as a whole, and considering how far beyond that of any other church was the opportunity at Rome, where Paul had transmitted the lofty conception of the Son of God, and Peter the concrete tradition of his earthly life, we cannot wonder that Mark's outline so soon became the standard account of Jesus' earthly ministry, and ultimately the only one.

But little space remains in which to trace the developments of gospel story in other fields. Southern Syria and Egypt soon found it needful, as we have seen, to adopt the work of Mark, but independently and as a framework for the Matthæan Precepts. It cannot have been long after that Antioch and Northern Syria followed suit. For Luke, though acquainted with the work of 'many' predecessors gives no sure evidence of acquaintance with Matthew. When we find such unsoftened contradictions as those displayed between these two Greek gospels in their opening and closing chapters, and observe, moreover, that while both indulge in hundreds of corrections and improvements upon Mark, these are rarely coincident and never make the assumption of interdependence necessary, it is hard to resist the conclusion that neither evangelist was directly acquainted with the other's work. Now no other gospel compares with Matthew in the rapidity and extent of its circulation, while Luke declares himself a diligent inquirer. He could not ignore the claims of apostolic authority to which this early and wide acceptance of Matthew were mainly due. The inference is reasonable that Luke's date was but little later than that of Matthew. If the probability of his employment of the Antiquities of Josephus could be raised to a certainty this would suffice to date the Gospel and Book of Acts not earlier than 96. Internal and external evidence, as judged by most scholars, converge on a date approximating 100.

The North-Syrian derivation of Luke-Acts is less firmly established in tradition than the Roman origin of Mark and the South-Syrian of Matthew. Ancient tradition can point to nothing weightier than the statement of Eusebius, drawn we know not whence, but independently made in the argumenta (prefixed descriptions) of several Vulgate manuscripts that Luke was of Antiochian birth. However, internal evidence supplies corroboration in rather unusual degree. If the reading of some texts in Acts xi. 28, "And as we were assembled," could be accepted, this alone would be almost conclusive corroboration. But dubious as it is, it furnishes support. For if an alteration of the original, it is at any rate extremely early (c. 150?) and aimed to support the belief in question.23 Moreover the whole attitude of Luke-Acts in respect to apostolic authority, settlement of the great question of the terms of fellowship between Jew and Gentile, and description of the founding of the Pauline churches, is such as to make its origin anywhere between the Taurus range and the Adriatic most improbable; while if we place it in Rome we shall have an insoluble problem in the relation of its extreme emphasis on apostolic authority, and quasi-deification of Peter, to the stalwart independence of Mark. Conversely there are many individual traits which suggest Antioch as the place of origin. Next to Jerusalem, the never-to-be-forgotten church of "the apostles and elders," Antioch is the mother church of Christendom. There the name "Christian" had its origin. There the work of converting the Gentiles was begun. The Greek churches of Cyprus and Asia Minor are regarded as dependencies of Antioch. Even those of the Greek peninsula are linked as well as may be to Antioch and Jerusalem, with suppression of the story of the schism. Antioch, not the Pauline Greek churches, is the benefactress of "the poor saints in Jerusalem," and at the instance of Antioch, by appeal to "the apostles and elders," the "decrees" are obtained which permanently settle the troublesome question of the obligation of maintaining ceremonial cleanness which still rests upon "the Jews which are among the Gentiles." As we have seen, the settlement is as far from that of Mark and the Pauline churches on the one side, as from the thoroughgoing legalism of Jerusalem on the other. As late as the Pastoral Epistles abstinence from "meats which God created to be received with thanksgiving by them that believe and know the truth" is to the Pauline churches a "doctrine of devils and seducing spirits" taught "through the hypocrisy of men that speak lies." Distinctions of meats belong to Jewish superstition, because "every creature of God is good and nothing is to be rejected, if it be received with thanksgiving" (1st Tim. iv. 1-5). Mark, as we have seen, takes precisely this standpoint. He is equally radical in condemning distinctions of meats as essentially "vain worship," and a "commandment of men" (Mark vii. 1-23). In truth if we distinguish one of Luke's sources from Luke himself we shall find exactly this doctrine taught to Peter himself by special divine revelation in Acts x. 10-16; xi. 3-10. Only, as we have already seen (p. 59, note), this is not the application made by the Book of Acts, as it now stands, of the material. To 'Luke' nothing could be more repugnant than the idea of an apostle forsaking the religion of his fathers, of which circumcision and "the customs" are an essential part. His cancellation, in the story of Peter's revelation and the Apostle's subsequent defence of it before the church in Jerusalem, of one of its essential factors, viz. the right to eat with Gentiles, regardless of man-made distinctions of meats ("what God hath cleansed make not thou common") is quite as significant as his restriction of even Paul's activity to Greek-speaking Jews, until "the Spirit" has expressly directed the church in Antioch, immediately after the persecution of Agrippa I, to proceed with the propaganda. Both alterations of the earlier form of the story are in line with a multitude of minor indications, and furnish us, in combination with them, the real keynote of the narrative. In Luke-Acts more clearly than in any of the gospels the writer assumes the distinctive function of the historian. He, too, would relate, like Mark, the origin of the Christian faith, and that "from the very first." He even deduces the pedigree of Jesus from "Adam, which was the son of God." But the object is far more to prove the pedigree of the faith than the pedigree of Jesus. Christianity is to be defended against the charge of being a nova superstitio, a religio illicita. On the contrary it is the one true and revealed religion, the perfect flower and consummation of Judaism. Yet it is not, like Judaism, particularistic and national, but universal; for while God at first made that nation the special repository of his truth, it was his "determinate foreknowledge and counsel" that they should reject and crucify their Messiah, making it possible to "proclaim this salvation unto the Gentiles." The one thing Luke is so anxiously concerned to prove that he wearies the reader with constant reiteration of it, proclaims it, argues it, in season and out of season, with his sources, against his sources, with the facts, against the facts, is that this faith was never, never, offered to the Gentiles except by express direction of God and after the Jews had demonstrated to the last extremity of stiff-necked opposition that they would have none of it. Christianity, then, and not Judaism, is the true primitive and revealed religion, the heir of all the divine promises.